


Highfield Road 62

by here2be



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Muggle Culture, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Squibs, muggle weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-20 13:06:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13718322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/here2be/pseuds/here2be
Summary: "So" Harry said eventually. "What do we do now?""I was going to suggest we buy takeout and watch Britain's Got Talent" Patrick said from the kitchen door.Three pairs of eyes stared at him."Come on" he said. "Just because there's a bunch of maginazis out there doesn't mean we can't have normal things. You ever watch telly?" he asked Ron."Is it like a big box? Yeah, I think I saw one once...""Oh, you're gonna love it. It's my third favourite muggle thing."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No, it isn't set in the 90's. Because.

"That makes me sound a lot cooler than I was," Ron mumbled.  
"Stuff like that always sounds cooler than it really was," said Harry. "I've been trying to tell you that for years."  
Simultaneously they walked forwards and hugged, Harry gripping the still sopping back of Ron's jacket.  
*  
"Oh get a room, will you?"  
They span around.  
Fenrir Greyback. Grinning.  
"Oh, don't be like that" he said when Ron reached for his wand and Harry looked around in panic. "These nice gentlemen here will have to stun you and I will get to have all sorts of fun with my claws while you're unconsious. Actually, coming to think about it, please be like that. Come on lads, fight."  
But Ron had lowered his wand and Harry spotted his own, lying on top of his sweater in the moss.  
"Now how about you give me that sword and then we can have a nice little walk back to wherever the mudblood is hiding."  
For a brief moment, Harry considered trying to fight them off with the sword. Who knew what kind of magic abilities the artefact possesed? But he couldn't take the risk of Ron getting killed now that he was finally standing here. Harry handed over the sword and stood still while ropes emerged from the nearest wand to bind both their hands behind their backs.  
"So, where is the mudblood?"  
Ron spat on the ground next to Greyback's bare feet. Greyback hit him on the side of the face.  
"Actually, we don't need you to tell us" said one of Greyback's two companions. "There's a nice little tracking spell for that."  
"Shut up" said Greyback. "I want them to tell us. I want to make them tell us."  
He drew out a long, crooked knife.  
"Oh come on" the Snatcher whined. "It's bloody cold here. Let's just get it over with."  
"You little-"  
"Maybe after we deliver them the Dark Lord will let you have the girl" the other, obviously the intelligent one, interrupted.  
Ron gasped and Harry felt a shiver run down his spine.  
Greyback pouted and then he nodded. The intelligent Snatcher mumbled some kind of spell and one after one Harry's past footsteps started to shine in the moonlight, forming a glowing path in the direction of their camp.  
Hermione had obviously heard them and called out through the tent opening:  
"Harry what-"  
"Come out of the tent with you hands above your head, Mudblood. We have your boyfriends here and we'll start cutting pieces out of the ginger one any second now."  
Hermione came out, eyes swiping over them all before stopping at Ron, who attempted a smile.  
"Now let's go" said the impatient Snatcher and rubbed his cold hands together.  
"We will pick up the other ones on the way" Greyback said.  
The two others looked like they wanted to protest but decided not to. With a flick of his wand, Greyback set the tent on fire. Harry stared at it in shock for a moment, but Greyback and his companions didn't take any time to gloat. Roughly grabbing one prisoner each, they Apparated to a hill. 

 

'The others', it turned out, were Dean and the two goblins. They were waiting with a group of Snatchers bit further down the hill beside what appeared to be their tent. The Snatchers were apparantly arguing with a large blond man who looked familiar - Rowle.  
At the arrival of Greyback and his prisoners silence fell upon the camp.  
"Is that-" one of the Snatchers called.  
"Harry Potter" said the Death Eater, walking towards them. "Well done, Greyback. And you have the sword as well."  
"What are you doing here?"  
"Supervising. Give me the sword."  
Greyback growled.  
"These are my prisoners. All of them. And I found the sword. I'll be the one to hand all of it over to the Dark Lord."  
"Oh, and how are you planning on calling upon him?"  
The werewolf glared at the wizard. Finally, he showed the sword into Rowle's hands.  
"But I'm taking the prisoners there."  
"All right. Bring them to Malfoy Manor. I will inform them that you are on your way."  
He looked at Harry with a freezing smile. Then he Disapparated away.


	2. Chapter 2

"Are we taking all of them to Malfoy Manor?" Intelligent Snatcher asked and nodded towards Dean and the goblins.  
At the same time one of his collegues called out:  
"We're not done with the tent yet!"  
"Idiots" barked Greyback. "You watch those until I get back" he said to Intelligent Snatcher. "Make sure they don't sneak away any valuables. And if I find out that you haven't-"  
"Of course" the Snacher said, hurriedly.  
Greyback turned towards Harry, Ron and Hermione and opened his mouth but was interrupted before he could speak. Something came flying towards the Snatchers by the tent. One of them managed to throw up a shield, and the thing bounced off it and landed by another one's feet where it exploded and sent them all tumbling on the ground.  
Greyback yelled something and the Snatcher by his side ran to assist the others, throwing curses in the direction the projectile had come from. With a yelp, he stumbled, blood exploding from his neck. Another projectile - a grenade, it was a grenade - exploded over by the tent with a blinding flash and smoke suddenly covered the men that were still attempting to get to their feet, wands drawn and curses flying in all directions.

Harry didn't think, he just threw himself against Greyback. Much like that time he had done the same thing with Sirius in the Shrieking Shack, many years ago, the werewolf was surprised enough that Harry managed tackle him to the ground. Ron and Hermione moved after him, dodging a flash of red light from Greyback's wand, landing heavily on top of him trying to keep him down and rip the wand from his hand. Harry pinned Greyback's other arm to the ground and wrangled the knife from his hand. Rubbing his tied-up hands against it, the ropes gave in like spaghetti against a table knife. He reached for the wands at Greyback's belt but was thrown off together with Ron and Hermione. He rolled through the grass and got up on his hands and knees, only to see Greyback aiming the wand at him, no room to duck, nowhere to hide, but then the werewolf yelped and there was blood at his shoulder and Harry dove on him again, getting his hands on the wands at his belt.  
"Reducto!"  
Greyback fell backwards as if hit with something heavy, but he immediately got back up on his knees, sending a curse Harry's way. As he blocked it, something hit Harry from behind and once again he was rolling in the grass, gasping in pain. Hermione yelled his name and the next second she was there, dragging him to his feet as he pressed one of the wands into her hand. Ron had jumped Greyback from behind and screamed as the werewolf's claws dug into his arm.  
"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry and Hermione yelled, both aiming at Greyback who dropped down, unconscious.  
"Ron?" Hermione called.  
Ron shook his head and took the wand out of Greyback's lax hand. Panting, they turned to see Dean, the goblins and a boy their age fighting the remaining three Snatchers. As he ran to help, Harry saw Dean trying to rip the wand from the hands of a Snatcher while Griphook had his long, strong hands closed over the man's throat. Meanwhile, the stranger elegantly dodged a curse, kicked a Snatcher at the side of his knee so that he stumbled and ran a knife into his stomach.  
With Harry, Ron and Hermione joining, the fight was over in less than a minute.  
"Harry!" Dean said and stared at him. "Hermione, Ron! I never-"  
"Quick" the other goblin interrupted him "More are coming!"  
"Apparate us" said Griphook to Dean.  
Dean turned to Harry again.  
"We'll be all right" Harry said. "Where's Ted?"  
"He didn't let them take him alive. Thanks for the rescue, guys" Dean said, smiling weakly at them. "Okay, I'll be at Seamus' aunt's for a couple of days, the only Clara Finnegan in Worthing."  
And then he and the goblins were gone.  
"Come on" the stranger said.  
He had picked up all the fallen men's wands and stuffed them carelessly into his pocket.  
Harry turned and looked at the bodies of the Snatchers laying around them. They mostly seemed unconscious, except for one who had curled into a ball around his bleeding belly, whining in pain, and the intelligent Snatcher who's throat had exploded in blood-  
"He's dead" Hermione said. "Oh my-"  
"We need to go" Harry said.  
They ran away from the campsite, into the forest. The boy led them to a clearing were he apparently had left his bag. He took a gun out of a holster at his hip and stuffed it into the bag. Harry looked at him properly for the first time. He was possibly a couple of years older than them, slightly taller than Harry but shorter than Ron. He had brown hair that he tiredly ran his hand through, thick, straight eyebrows that gave his face a severe look and khaki trousers that made Harry think of soldiers.  
"Who the hell are you?" Harry asked, realising only afterwards how rude it must sound.  
"Patrick. Trisker. I already know who you are. We need to get out of here. Do you have a place to hide?"  
"We just lost our tent."  
"Come to my place, then. It doesn't have any connection to magic so it should be safe. I'm house sitting for a friend. Sort of. The family is going to be gone for at least another six months. If I give you the address, can you apparatus there and bring me along?"  
"You can't Apparate?"  
"Squib."  
"Oh."  
"I'm not sure if it's possible to side-along with a mug- ehm."  
"You can say muggle, it doesn't bother me. Sure it's possible. My parents did it all through my childhood."  
"All right then, no problem."  
"Do you think you can get us directly into the house? It's a hundred percent non-magical, no wards or anything."  
"Hermione will have to do it in that case" Harry said. "I wouldn't trust myself with that."  
"And you're not even considering me, huh?" Ron said and Harry turned around to apologize, but Ron continued: "Don't worry. I wouldn't trust myself with that either. Splinched myself just a couple of days ago. I'd like to wait at least a week before I do it again."  
"So are we ready?"  
"Well, there's nothing to wait for, is there? It's freezing out here."  
Hermione gave Ron a poisonous look, but allowed him to grip her arm together with the others.  
"Okay" she said. "So describe the layout of the house, that'll make it easier and hopefully we can avoid landing inside a wall."

Twenty seconds later they were all standing in a dark living room.  
"Great" Patrick said. "Well, welcome to Highfield Road. Feel free to stay as long as you like. There are two bedrooms up the stairs. My room is in the attic. Do you need first aid for that or do you just heal it with a spell?"  
Hermione mumbled healing spells over Ron's bleeding arm but couldn't get the wound to close properly. She nodded at Patrick who took over. He looked like he knew what he was doing. Ron prodded the muggle bandage suspiciously and grimaced in pain.  
"Why is it always me?" he asked to no one in particular.  
Hermione ignored him and turned to Patrick.  
"How did you find us? What were you doing there?"  
"My part. I've been following those Snatchers for a couple of days."  
"How do you follow them when you can't use magic?"  
"There are plenty of things you can do without magic. But seriously, do you want to stand here and talk about that?"  
"No" Ron said.  
They took their things, or what remained of their things, up the stairs. Without discussing it they decided that Hermione would sleep in the bedroom with the one wide bed and Harry and Ron take the one with two singles. Ron kept talking no matter how much Hermione refused to acknowledge his presence, telling them about how he had found his way back with the help of Dumbledore's gift. They went downstairs again and ended up standing in the hallway just looking at each other. Ruffled, tired, wild-eyed. Together.  
"So" Harry said eventually. "What do we do now?"  
"I was going to suggest we buy take out and watch Britain's Got Talent" Patrick said from the kitchen door.  
Three pairs of eyes stared at him.  
"Come on" he said. "Just because there's a bunch of maginazis out there doesn't mean we can't have normal things. You ever watch telly?" he asked Ron.  
"Is it like a big box? Yeah, I think I saw one once..."  
"Oh, you're gonna love it. It's my third favourite muggle thing."

He did love it.  
"I love it."  
"See, what did I tell you."  
"This is the best thing ever invented. We need to get this in the wizarding world as well."  
"Sure" Harry laughed "I'm sure that Vold-"  
"NO NO DON'T SAY IT!"  
Harry had nearly jumped off the chair. Ron was standing up and pointing at him.  
"Wow mate, calm down, you don't-"  
"No I mean it! It's spelled, that's how they found us in London. It's a Taboo. Really smart when you think about it. Only his worst enemies ever dared so say the name."  
"Ron!" Hermione yelled. "You couldn't have said that earlier? They could have found us here, just like that!"  
"I was distracted!"  
He waved towards the TV.  
"Well, now we know" Patrick said. "Do you usually say his name? Cool. Never known anyone who did that."  
"It's mostly been Harry" Hermione said. "All right Harry, you have to remember from now on-"  
"Yeah I got that" he snapped.  
"I can put up a little sign in the kitchen to remind you."  
Patrick threw him a smile.

"Should we stay with him?" Hermione asked when they were all going to bed and Patrick had disappeared up the stairs to his room.  
"I-" Ron started but Hermione interrupted him.  
"What do you think Harry?"  
"Yeah, I think we should. We don't have anywhere else to go and why not?"  
"He freaks me out a bit. I'm not saying I don't trust him, but seeing him kill someone and then sit down and watch TV?"  
"I suppose that's how you do it" Harry said quietly.  
"Do what?"  
"This."  
She looked at him for a moment and then she looked away. Then she said goodnight and went into her room.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermine woke up feeling distorted. It was strange, after all these weeks, to be in an actual house. Without being cold and without the sound of Harry snoring or moving around restlessly. For a moment she relished in the silence. Then she felt the anxiety start creeping up from her stomach. No, not today. Could they not take one single day off? No one knew where they were.  
She took a shower. Put on the only clean clothes she had left in her purse. Sorted through her books and thanked the powers that be that she had slipped the Beedle back into the bag before leaving the tent. She hadn't had time to grab the books that lay open on the table. No point in thinking about what they had lost. Any of it.  
She closed her bedroom door behind her in the exact same moment that Harry stepped out of the other room. There was a moment of stillness. Then they reached for each other, hugging before they walked down the stairs together. Patrick was already sitting in the kitchen with a mug of coffee. He pointed them to the toaster and the fridge. Ron showed up about ten minutes later.  
"So" Hermione said when they were all seated. "How did you track the Snatchers?"  
"And what were those curses you threw at them?" asked Ron. "How did you do that without magic?"  
"Stun grenades" she said. "If you had taken Muggle Studies-"  
She shook her head.  
"Where did you get them, by the way?" she asked Patrick.  
"Stole them from the military."  
"How on earth did you do that?"  
"It's not that hard when you have a witch with you. Did you meet Beatrice in school? She was in Hufflepuff. Beatrice Trisker."  
"Don't think so."  
"As to your other question. There are plenty of devices that allow you to track people. Just slip the transmitter into someone's bag and you can follow them wherever they go. I found out where one of them lived and then I could work from there. They're not usually the brightest people, Snatchers."  
"I agree" said Ron. "The guys who got me were complete idiots. Overpowered them and took the wand off one of them."  
"That's what you did yesterday too" Hermione said to Patrick. "What do you do with the wands?"  
"Hand them over to people who lost their own. We're working on a network to help people leave the UK."  
"Wow, I had no idea."  
"Well, you've been busy hiding yourselves, haven't you? But why have you of all people not left the country?"  
"We're not hiding" Harry said. "We have something we must do in Britain."  
"Really? Does it have to do with you being chosen to save us all?"  
Harry squirmed.  
"Sort of" Ron said.  
"Does that mean there is actually a plan?"  
Uncomfortable silence.  
"Sort of" Ron repeated.  
"Well in that case I could help you to get into contact with people who could help."  
"It's not one of those plans. It has to be us, only us."  
"Sounds ridiculous."  
"Magic."  
"I'm a Squib, not a Muggle. You can't convince me by just saying 'magic'. But all right, you don't want to tell me."  
"You fought them without any magic" Harry said.  
"Magic isn't automatically stronger than everything else. I have some amulets and protection spells on me, but it's often pretty effective to just take wizards and witches by surprise. They're so brainwashed with magic being the only way of doing things that they don't expect anything else. And they don't expect worthless creatures like squibs and muggles to fight back."  
"Are there more of you?"  
"There are quite a lot of people that have come into contact with the wizarding world. You're muggleborn, aren't you? What are your parents doing?"  
He looked at Hermione. She felt her throat tighten.  
"That's none of you business" Ron spit out.  
"I'd rather not talk about my parents" she said. "I have to ask. That man yesterday. You shot him dead."  
"Yeah?"  
"Just like that?"  
"I don't know if you noticed, but we're in a war. What, you didn't kill Greyback?"  
"No."  
"So he can just keep on doing what he's doing. And we'll have to face him again. Is this how you're planning on winning?"  
"Yes" she said firmly, although she felt no real conviction.  
"Your family?" Harry asked.  
"Mum died two years ago. Dad died when they took the Ministry. Brother fled the country."  
"I'm so sorry" Hermione whispered.  
Patrick didn't answer that, he just continued:  
"My brother is trying to recruit people in Scandinavia to come to our help. The wizarding government over there is very unwilling, though. You would have thought that our Ministry would have made arrangements after the last war in case something similar happened again, but of course that would have meant learning from past mistakes and evolving."  
"You're right" Hermione said, eagerly. "I think one reason why wizarding Britain has fallen so easily both times is the structure of society. If there had been-"  
"Off topic" Harry said quietly.  
She huffed.  
"Yeah" she agreed. "Another time. But if we ever get out of this mess, things have to change."  
"Well, if you beat the Number One Villain, I think you'd be in a pretty good position to make them change. But then again, we're talking about the wizarding world. Logic does not apply."  
"Hey, just because you-" Ron started.  
"Just because I am bitter about being inferior and cast out of you world? Yeah, that's what it's like, isn't it? Wizards know best. And the more stuck-up they are, the more they know."  
"Let's get back on topic" Harry said.  
"All right. Sorry. Many years of built-up frustration. What do you plan on doing now?"  
"You said that this house could not possibly be traced back to you? Even if they find out who you are?"  
"Funnily enough, they don't register Squibs. But yes, even if they figure out who I am, the house has no connection to me except that it belongs to the parents of my ex-boyfriend, whom no one in the wizarding world ever met and only three living people ever knew of."  
"No wizards in the area?"  
"Beatrice checked it thoroughly. We even avoided setting up more than one very basic ward so that it wouldn't be detected if someone scanned the neighbourhood for magic."  
Hermione looked at Harry.  
"I think we should stay."  
"How long are you going to ignore me?" Ron asked.  
"If you push me I'll hex you" she said.  
He went quiet.  
"I agree" Harry said and looked at Ron, who nodded. "If you really meant it when you said we could stay?"  
"Of course." Patrick smiled. "But I expect you to do your part of the housework."  
"As for the rest - we need to make plans. I can't believe we had the sword and lost it."  
Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Where on earth did you get the sword in the first place?" Hermione asked.  
"Well..."  
And he told her.  
"So someone sent that patronus. Do you think it was a trap to begin with?"  
"No. Why go through all that trouble if the already knew where we were? How could they have found us, by the way?"  
"Maybe they followed someone" she said, looking pointedly at Ron.  
"Not likely" Harry interrupted before Ron could answer. "Maybe they followed whoever gave us the sword."  
"It would be nice to know that someone is on our side. Who would be able to get their hands on the sword? Last thing we heard it was in Snape's office."  
"A student?"  
"No way. I'd rather think it was a teacher, but them why hide their identity?"  
"Are you going to tell me what sword you're talking about or is that part of the big secret?" Patrick asked.  
"Sorry, mate" Ron said.  
Patrick laughed.  
"It's good. As long as I don't know, I can just imagine that there is a big master plan to make everything all right."  
He disappeared up the stairs and left them to their planning. They didn't make much progress in regards to the sword. Ron kept insisting that they needed to bring in more people, Harry kept refusing and saying that Dumbledore had left this for him, for them and no one else.  
"I'm not saying we should bring them into this Horcrux-hunt, what I'm saying is we are making this harder than it has to be by not getting assistance when we could get it. The Order is still out there and they may know things we need to know. And you heard Patrick, there's this entire organization for helping people escape, and they even have some contact with the Order. Cutting ourselves off is just stupid."  
"I suppose you have gathered lots and lots of information on your little trip" Hermione said. "That why you left, was it? Strategic purposes?"  
"No, I left because I'm an idiot. But I learned some things. And if we could get a line of contact with just a few other people, that would be a strategic advantage."  
"And what would happen to them if they were found out?"  
"The same bloody thing that would happen to them anyway! For Merlin's sake Harry, we're not the only ones fighting this war. You are not the only one. You're not doing anyone a favour by keeping them away from you for their own protection."  
"I agree " Hermione said and Ron turned to stare at her "but the more important issue is: In what kind of risk do we put ourselves by being in touch with people who are known enemies of- you know, him. The Death Eaters have the Ministry now. The less we communicate with people in the Order, the less risk of being exposed."  
"If we keep stumbling about without knowing what's going on, we're even more at risk!"  
"It's a dilemma, that's what it is."  
"Do you think it's safe to call Dean?" Harry asked. "I suppose no one would know where he went, but if someone found out, it wouldn't be that hard to track the phone call. We could go find a phone booth."  
"Track the phone call?"  
Hermione threw Ron an annoyed look.  
"As anyone who took Muggle studies or paid the slightest attention would know, yes, it's very easy of authorities to track a phone call between two privately owned phones." She paused. "But actually your ignorance is relevant here. Death eaters wouldn't know that, would they? Like Patrick said."  
"But there're people at the Ministry who might know how to do it" Ron said. "And like you said, they have the ministry now."  
"I don't think making one phone call would be that big a risk" Hermione said.  
"But what if-" Ron started and Harry rose from his seat.  
"I think we should call" he said. "I'll just stretch my legs a bit."  
"You can't go outside!" Hermione called after him.  
"He knows that" Ron said.  
Harry could hear the arguing getting louder as he walked up the stairs.  
The attic had two rooms. A small bedroom that Harry caught a glimpse of through the door, and a big hobby room with a work bench, a sewing machine and several boxes shoved into a corner to make room for two large plastic-covered mattresses and a dummy.  
He watched Patrick do a series of complicated-looking kicks.  
"Can you teach me?" he said, surprising himself.  
The other boy turned around and smiled.  
"Sure. You play quidditch, right?"  
"It's so weird how you know these things."  
"My cousin never shuts up about Hogwarts."  
"I'm sorry."  
"What, for my lack of magic? Don't be. That's not your fault is it? Plus, my parents have mourned that enough for everyone. What irritates me is how I would try to talk about my school, my friends, my life, and just get this uncomfortable silence. And then afterwards my parents telling me to try to keep quiet about those embarrassing muggle things."  
"I know what you mean."  
"Oh yeah, muggle family, wasn't it? They not comfortable with Hogwarts talk?"  
"To put it mildly."  
"Well" Patrick said, something hard about his jaw. "Their loss. Knowing more about the muggle world might have helped my parents hide from the Death Eaters."  
"I'm sorry."  
"Again, not you fault."  
Harry found his mouth open up to protest but closed it again.  
"Seriously" Patrick said and looked him in the eye without blinking. "If you're going to win this you need to stop feeling sorry for everything."  
"It's not that easy to just get rid of my feelings" Harry said, annoyed. "I'm actually a human being, not just some weapon to be thrown at Vold-"  
"Wooop!"  
"I'm-"  
He grimaced.  
"Sorting away your feelings to keep you mind clear might be a good thing."  
"That's not a talent of mine, really."  
As proven by Snape's lessons, he thought with a wave of anger.  
"Then how about we practise?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Look, I already said I'm sorry, and I'll say it as many times as I have to."  
Hermione shook her head.  
"You know, I had a lot of time to think while you were away."  
"Yeah?"  
She hesitated.  
"Let's just focus on the issue at hand. Should we even prioritize getting the sword back? We don't have any more Horcruxes to destroy. Maybe we better focus on that."  
"Yeah, you may be right. For all we know, they may already have put it in Gringott's where it was supposed to be. Hey, which vault d'you reckon it's in? Snakeface doesn't have his own, does he?"  
"Why wouldn't he?"  
"He would have had to open a new vault, since he was never officially recognized as heir to the Gaunts. Like, fifta years ago? That would still be one of the upper levels, among the mixed-blood families. From what Harry told us, I don't really see him doing that."  
"So who's vault would he use?"  
"Don't know. Some evil pureblood's, I suppose."  
"Well that narrows it down. But - the Goblin. When we eavesdropped on then. He'd been involved when they got the fake one. He would know where it was put."  
"That's brilliant! He might still be at Seamus' aunt's place, or at least Dean would know where to find him."  
"It's not brilliant. Even if we find out which vault it's in, what would we do about it?"  
"Break into Gringott's?"  
"Yuo're joking."  
"Yeah. I think you're right and we should concentrate on the Horcruxes. Let's worry about destroying when we actually have something to destroy."

*

The second Severus stepped through the door into the Headmaster's office he heard Dumbledore's portrait yelling his name.  
"Severus!"  
"Yes?"  
"They've been captured! Tell him what you told me, Phineas!"  
"I only heard someone tell the mudblood that they had captured the boys and order her to exit the tent."  
Severus stood like a statue, clenching his teeth.  
"When?"  
"In the middle of the night. I'm afraid I didn't check the time."  
"And then?"  
"That's all I heard. Someone was digging around in the bag some hours later, but I culdn't tell if it was the mudblood or someone else."  
"Don't use that word" Severus snapped, and started pacing.  
"You need to-"  
"I need to think before I do anything else. Lucius would know, he is if nothing else still at the Manor and would have heard if they had captured the boy. I will fire-call him to speak about Draco. His performance has dropped significantly this last semester."

*

Hermione was speaking into the telephone. Ron had offered to do it, because he knew how to do it now and would have liked to show her that, but she had just thrown him a condescending look.  
"What's he saying?" he asked impatiently.  
She hushed.  
"Yes" she said into the phone. "It's probably best to keep it simple. It should be enough to keep them out. Yeah, do that. I'll get one for each of us. Do you think you can come over here on Wednesday? Beatrice will be here too. Patrick's cousin. Great. Dean be careful, okay? Ron and Harry both say hi."  
"No I don't" he said as she put down the phone.  
"Shut up" she said.  
Well, he thought. At least she's speaking to me.  
"Go get Harry, we need to make more plans" she said and waved him out of the room.  
See.  
He found Harry in the attic, sitting on a mattress, facing the Squib. Harry had his eyes closed. Patrick had his eyes on Harry's face and spoke softly. When Ron opened his mouth to speak he held up a hand to stop him without taking his eyes off Harry.  
"And now slowly return to you body. Feel your feet, then your hands. Take a deep breath. Open your eyes when you feel like it."  
Harry sat still for another moment before he let out a sigh and opened his eyes, looking at the young man in front of him with a little smile.  
"It's not supposed to work right away, but did it feel like it did something?"  
"Yeah" Harry said. "I think so."  
The silence dragged on. Harry seemed to take a deep breath as if getting ready to act. Ron coughed. Harry winced and looked at him.  
"We should continue" Ron said.  
"Yeah. Yeah, sure."

*

"Severus, you know as well as I do that grades will not determine Draco's future."  
"No, but nonetheless - as Headmaster I feel it's my duty to share my concerns with you."  
"Is that something you do for all your students then?"  
That haughty face, Severus thought. What amount of setbacks would it take to permanently wipe that look off the face of Lucius Malfoy?  
"Would you suggest that your son is only as important as any other Hogwarts student?" he said.  
That actually made a smile tug at the corner of Lucius' mouth.  
"You seem tired" said Severus. "Didn't sleep well?"  
Lucius raised his eyebrows at this unusually personal inquiry.  
"The work of our Lord can be demanding at times."  
"Oh? I was under the impression that things were rather slow here at the Manor in his absence. I was hoping it would provide Draco with some peace and quiet, to gather his strength before the next semester."  
He was possibly stretching this apparent concern for Draco to its limits. Lucius was certainly not a stupid man. He most likely recognized it for what it was, but Severus hade done him a number of inconspicuous favours over the past year, using his status as one of the Dark Lord's most valued assets. His ties to the Malfoy family had been useful in the past and would continue to be so, as long as it was kept relatively discreet and Lucius didn't make any more mistakes.  
Which explained why a hint of nervousness showed in Lucius' gaze. He may still be Severus' superior in terms of age, ancestry and wealth, but like he had just said, such things were of less importance now than one's proximity to the Dark Lord.   
"Even in our Lord's absence, there are frequently issues to be dealt with, efforts to be coordinated, to keep things running smoothly" said Lucius. "And the incompetence of some of our allies can be exhausting at times."  
"True."  
"You would have thought people would learn from their past mistakes, but I'm afraid that requires a certain level of mental capabilities."  
Or they are just too arrogant, Severus thought and resisted a snort.   
"Yes" he said. "You heard about Shacklebolt's escape last week, I assume?"  
There it was, that slight glimpse of restrained smugness. If only you knew what I knew, it said.  
"Of course" Lucius said. "They are lucky the Dark Lord is preoccupied."  
"Oh, I don't know. I heard your sister-in-law took it upon herself to administer punishments in his absence."  
"She certainly did."  
"You would have thought that incident would keep people motivated for some time."  
"Yes. And certain persons can consider themselves lucky that she herself is preoccupied at the moment."  
"So she isn't here? I'm pleased to hear. I'd rather not have to interact with that woman, if you don't mind me saying so."  
"I'm quite sure that applies to anyone who has made her acquaintance. No, we don't expect her back until next week."  
"Well" said Severus and rose from his armchair. "I believe we both have matters to attend to. Thank you for the drink."

"They escaped" he said to Dumbledore's portrait. "And Lucius made sure the mistake was covered up. A big risk on his account, but I imagine he will demand the favor to be thoroughly returned, either that or he thinks he will somehow gain from informing the Dark Lord personally."  
"Thank goodness" said the portrait.  
"May I get some well-needed rest now?" asked Phineas Nigellus.


	5. Chapter 5

They spent a few days just resting, savouring the luxuries of a real house and setting up routines. To avoid suspicion from the neighbours, Ron decided that they should always keep the same personas when leaving the house. They found pictures in the newspaper of a teenaged boy and a middle-aged man and woman who looked like they could be related to Patrick and put the pictures up by the door. Before going out, Harry and Hermione would take on the faces of Patrick's supposed uncle and aunt, and Ron would turn himself into a brown-haired, uni-browed and non-freckled version of himself to pass as a cousin. They even had fake names and life stories in case someone wanted to chat. Hermione nervously chatted with the old lady across the street and ended up telling her all about her husband's failed attempt at running a dentist clinic and how it had nearly ended their marriage, to a point where the old lady now seemed to be avoiding her.  
For Harry, it felt like stepping into a parallel universe of unbelievable normality. They went to the supermarket fully visible and argued about which brand of biscuits to buy.

"We shouldn't use magic in the house" Hermione said as they were unpacking the groceries. "In case they scan the area for magical activity."  
"Yeah, yeah, good idea" Ron said absent-minded while curiously turning a box of pasta in his hands.  
"I'm really no good at Muggle cooking" she admitted, with that slightly pained expression Hermione always wore when admitting that there was something she didn't know.  
"I can do it" Harry said and dug out a pan from the cupboards.  
"Of course you can" mumbled Patrick.  
"If you want to-"  
"No, no, I'm pants at cooking. Do you know how to handle DVD recorders too?"  
"What? No?"  
"That's a relief. By the way" Patrick said to Hermione. "I think you should take it a little easier with the whole fake persona thing, I think the old lady across the street is avoiding us after you told her all those things about your marriage."  
"I know, I was just so nervous. By the way, there's something I need to discuss with you all."  
"I'm not cleaning the bathroom again, it's someone else's turn" Ron said.  
"It's not about the housework. I've been thinking and I really think we should go see Xenophilius Lovegood."  
"What?" said Harry and Ron in unison.  
"Who?" said Patrick.  
"He's our friend Luna's dad. Runs a magazine, the Quibbler?"  
"He's crazy" Ron added.  
"He's a bit peculiar" Hermoine said.  
"I remember that interview."  
"Me too" said Harry.  
"Look."  
Hermoine opened her book and showed them the symbol that had been drawn on top of the page.  
"Here it is."  
She pulled The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore out from a stack of news papers and showed them the letter Dumbledore had written to Grindewald.  
"It can't just be Grindewald's symbol, that gravestone in Godric's Hollow was there long before he came there."  
She pointed at The Tales of Beedle The Bard.  
"There is something in this book that Dumbledore wanted us to see and the only thing I've found is this symbol. It has to be connected somehow."  
"Connected to what?"  
"To our quest, or to You-Know-Who, or something. There is some sort of clue and I think we're supposed to investigate."  
Patrick frowned.  
"Why would anyone leave you clues instead of just giving you information? That sounds insane. It's not some big mystery game we're playing here."  
"Because Dumbledore" said Ron.  
"He must have had his reasons" said Hermione.  
"Or he just had a horrible sense of humour" said Harry.  
"Don't say that Harry, you know he wouldn't do that to us. Especially to you."  
"No, actually I don't know that. We're just telling ourselves that because it makes us feel like we might stand a chance."  
He left the knife on the chopping board and marched out of the kitchen.

Patrick found him in the far end of the garden, shivering in the cold but stubbornly staring at a pile of leaves.  
"Let's go for a beer" Patrick said.  
"What?"  
"Put that other face on and grab a jacket. There's a pub ten minutes away."

It was only mid-afternoon and the pub was sparsely populated. The screen behind the bar showed football. Patrick pointed Harry towards a booth in the corner and walked up to the bar. Harry watched him chat with the bartender, a broad-shouldered man in his thirties with an attempted goatee. Was he flirting? What did it concern Harry if he were?  
"There you go" Patrick said and slid one of the beers across the table.  
They drank in silence for a while. Harry cleared his throat.  
"I wanted to ask you - your parents, do you think this is what they would want you to do? Fight?"  
Patrick looked at him with that open, never-yelding face and those sharp eyes.  
"Oh no, I know it's not. If they'd realized what was coming, they would have packed their bags and dragged me with them to the other side of the planet. But it's not about them."  
"Then what's it about?"  
"Me. And all the things I still care about in the wizarding world, even if it doesn't care much for me. Don't tell me you're doing all of this for people who are already dead?"  
"I'm not sure why I'm doing it. I never really had a choice."  
Harry was suddenly overwhelmed by the memory of the conversation he'd had with Dumbledore, about the prophecy and what he would have done if there hadn't been one. Could he trust anything Dumbledore had said or made him think? Still, he thought, that was the truth. It wouldn't have made a difference for him if there'd been no prophecy. He had still walked through that enchanted fire to face Voldemort, long before he heard about the prophecy.  
"I guess it's sort of the same for me" he said eventually. "I mean, I couldn't run. Not when people depend on me. And like you said, all the things I care about - I can't imagine losing this world. It was this unbelievable miracle, when I turned eleven and I found out about magic. And Hogwarts."  
"You didn't know about magic before you were eleven?"  
"No, like I said, my uncle and aunt..."  
He shrugged.  
"And you don't wish you'd never found out?"  
"No."  
"Really?"  
"No. The thought of living like that, in that world - I'd rather Vol- Tom walked through that door right this second and killed me. It'd still be worth it."  
Patrick watched him, quietly, his face somewhat softer. 

By the time they got up to leave, the pub was nearly full of people and the beers had made Harry slightly light-headed. He found it more and more difficult to look away from Patrick at appropriate intervals. They had moved on to talk about awkward encounters between muggles and wizards, and Patrick had laughed so hard when Harry told him how Mr Weasley had destroyed half the Dursley living room trying to get in through the fireplace that he nearly fell out of his seat.  
The moist had frozen so that the pavements glittered, and the sky was clear and black and lit with stars.  
"Hey" said Harry.  
Patrick turned towards him. They had stopped at the beginning of their street. Heart pounding in his ears, Harry lifted a hand and touched Patrick's cheek with his cold, quivering fingertips. He swallowed and leaned in.  
"Wait."  
He jumped back as if slapped.  
"Let's just wait a minute, all right? You still have that face on you. And we can't have the neighbours gossiping about indecency. You're supposed to be my uncle, remember?"  
They walked the last hundred meters in silence.  
"You hungry?" Patrick asked as they stepped into the hallway.  
Ron and Hermione appeared to have gone to bed already.  
"Yeah, a bit."  
"Let's make a sandwich."  
The kitchen was only lit by the street lamp outside. They moved with familiarity, quietly putting bread and jam on the table. Harry was searching through the cupboard for plates when he felt Patrick stepping up behind him, nearly cornering him against the counter.  
Warm fingertips ran down the back of his neck.  
"You sure?" Patrick whispered.  
He turned around. Nodded.  
Warm lips. Warm body. No thoughts, for once.


End file.
